The Emotional Roller Coaster of Life - The Cut-takes
by Jadiona
Summary: The Cut-takes will feature scenes from people who aren't main characters, scenes too short to make official chapters, scenes that occurred prior to the start of the story, and scenes that occurred between the prologue and chapter one. There's no specific order on the scenes and they will vary greatly in length. Read The Emotional Roller Coaster of Life first. AH. Rated M
1. The Real Chapter 26 - Dream (Edward)

****Disclaimer:**** I am not Stephenie Meyer and therefore I do not own Twilight or the wonderful characters I screw with.

 **AN:** These are outtakes and other scenes from The Emotional Roller Coaster of Life. So reading that first is important. Unlike the story of the Roller Coaster, which is in chronological order, these are out of order – more an as written or by priority list. Some scenes will be very short, others may be much longer than the chapters found in the actual story.

 **The "Real" Chapter 26 - Dream (Edward)  
** _ **August 1**_ _ **st**_ _ **, 2011**_

 _He was running on a giant hamster wheel and going nowhere. The hamster wheel was made of a kaleidoscope of colors with giant twizzler flavored bars._ _It felt like he'd been running on this same wheel for years._

 _He could feel the beady eyes of the giant ferret staring at him and he wanted to curl in on himself and hide, but he couldn't stop running._ _He didn't dare stop._

 _If he stopped then the white rabbit or black hawk would get him for sure. He just knew it. They were always trying to grab him and take him away from his wheel, but his wheel was his safety and he needed it. It protected him from the giant dark brown ferret that was always looking for another way to hurt him._

 _So he didn't dare leave his wheel. It was his only real saving grace. The hawk and rabbit couldn't save him._

 _No one could._


	2. The Emily Scene

****Disclaimer:**** I am not Stephenie Meyer and therefore I do not own Twilight or the wonderful characters I screw with.

 **The Emily Scene  
** _ **July 29th, 2011**_

She had been married to Sam since she was eighteen and it was hard to believe that in another eight months it would be twenty years that they'd been together – not that they hadn't had their share of cliffs and crags.

After ten years of being married, the cuffs that bound them together had begun to chafe and her husband ended up having a relationship with a young woman. Emily had never found out who it was that he'd spent a summer running around with. At the time it had happened she hadn't known about it all, actually. In fact, she hadn't found out until more than four and a half years after he'd broken it off.

When she'd discovered his infidelity, she'd walked and returned to her parents home on the Makah reservation. She'd never been able to determine if father spirit had a hand in it or if it was just pure kismet, but the discovery of her being pregnant had been the only thing that had prevented her from filing a divorce.

Almost the entirety of the next year – and most of the year after that – she'd spent living with her parents. It was only after her husband had gotten down on his knees and begged for forgiveness that she'd gone back to him.

The twins, Alec and Jane, were a handful. At four years old now they got into everything, from matches to water hoses. So far they'd had two house fires, a house flood, a torn up couch, and four prank calls to 911 in the last six months alone which had all been caused by the twins. Their ability to get into trouble left both Emily and Sam exhausted daily.

She woke up at five in the morning to find the twins already watching cartoons on the television.

She shook her head. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Marmelly cereal!" Jane shouted.

Alec suddenly looked at her. "Mom, doesn't rocky road has marsamello?"

"Yes, and nuts. And no you can't have that for breakfast, Alec."

"That wasn't why I wa askin. I saw a dawing of a man at Lee-La's house and she say it was drawn by Seth. She call the picture rocky road. Why would a dawing be a rocky road?"

Emily's brow furrowed as she contemplated the meaning behind a comment like that and didn't respond to her young son.


	3. A Bit About Garrett

****Disclaimer:**** I am not Stephenie Meyer and therefore I do not own Twilight or the wonderful characters I screw with.

 **A Bit About Garrett**

 _ **August 10th, 2011**_

He hung up the phone with Seth and closed his eyes.

He'd grown up knowing he was different, though he didn't figure out he was gay until he was thirteen. Ironically enough, it had taken having his eighth grade math teacher, Mr Greene, show him special attention to get him to figure out just _how different_ he was. He never did anything with Mr. Greene aside from talk to him, but it was still where he learned who he really was. He often wondered to himself if Mr. Greene had seen something in him which he hadn't realized was visible.

He'd always sworn to himself he'd never be that type of guy, but that was twenty-three years ago and Seth wasn't a little boy. Also, Garrett wouldn't even contemplate going after Seth if he was one of his students, but Seth wasn't his student. He did seem to be getting an associates degree in the art department, but it was extremely rare for a student who did drawing and painting to also go into clay.

Garrett knew he was trying to over justify his choices but he couldn't help it.

Garret had had several relationships over the years, including a brief fling with Laurent Bernard when he was fourteen... his mother's boyfriend at the time. He honestly couldn't blame his mom for kicking him out when she found out, though the fact that she didn't kick Laurent out at the same time honestly irked him.

His first steady boyfriend had been a boy the same age as him named Charles. Charles and he had went out for four years, from the time he was fifteen until he was nineteen. They'd spent the first year together at the University of Washington and then Charles had been scouted and transferred to Duke University for his sophomore year to play basketball. They'd never officially broke it off, instead they just slowly drifted apart over what would have been their fifth year of dating. They went from calling each other every night to once a week to once a month and eventually the calls had stopped.

He was twenty-one before he dated again. The man he dated went by an extremely innocent name of David or sometime DJ when he wanted to be cool. They were together for only about three month, but David never bothered to tell Garrett health information which he should have known from the start.

It wasn't until they broke it off and he got checked at the doctor that he found out how extremely screwed he was, because he'd tested HIV positive. It had taken him the better part a year to come to terms with the knowledge.

Fifteen years ago, he'd started out taking two pills every day plus a handful of different vitamins and a shot every two weeks at the doctors. Now, he still took those same two pills... and another three. And he still had to go to the doctors every two weeks for the same shot.

If his little brother hadn't had to move in with him within a couple months of him moving back to Forks after getting his Masters in art studies, he probably never would have been able to pull his act together. The need to take care of a lost sixteen year old was what drove him to push his own fears to the side.

He was lucky, because when he'd come down with HIV back in 1996, it wasn't something that had a long life expectancy and he'd honestly expected it to turn into AIDS, but by some miracle, fifteen years later it was still only HIV...

Still, it had taken precious years before drugs like Truvada and Isentress had been released and approved by the FDA... He could sometimes go months without feeling the effects the disease reaped on his body, but occasionally it would hit him hard and when it did, it sometimes lasted days.

He'd kept the disease hidden from both of his brothers along with his mother as he couldn't stand to see their reaction to it if they ever found out. He figured they'd find out when it killed him, though sometimes he did wonder if Emmett already knew with the way he mothered him. The thing was his little brother never brought it up and Emmett wasn't exactly known for being able to wait someone out when it came to secrets so he was relatively certain he didn't know.

On the other hand, he was always honest with the men he dated, because there was potential risk involved if safe sex practices weren't heeded to. Some of his relationships took the news better than others.

Sadly, his most recent boyfriend, Randal, hadn't taken it very well at all. Randal hadn't come out and said he'd had an issue with it, instead, he'd simply left after one date and never came back or called him ever again.

Now, as he contemplated getting close to Seth, he also worried Seth wouldn't be able to handle it at all, which was why he wasn't going to tell him immediately. He'd tell him before it got physical though. He'd have to.


	4. Maggie's Tale

****Disclaimer:**** I am not Stephenie Meyer and therefore I do not own Twilight or the wonderful characters I screw with.

 **AN:** This Cut-take takes place the day after Jacob and Bella's wedding in the prolegomenon.

 **Maggie's Tale**

 _ **July 22nd, 2006**_

The day Maggie quit working for LVMH, more commonly known as Louis Vuitton was the day that she met Rosalie.

Among the many different aspects of being an executive assistant with one of the biggest fashion names in the world was being involved with any and all charity work which the company did. The charity work she was involved with included everything from scholarships for up and coming photographers, models, and seamstresses, to donations for worthy causes such as breast cancer research and St Jude's Children Research Hospital, to sponsoring up and coming fashion entrepreneurs.

It was because of the last one that Maggie was with her boss, the CEO of Louis Vuitton, in Seattle, Washington instead of her home in Paris, France. A woman by the name of Rosalie Swan had managed to make enough noise to get their attention. It was a hard feat for an American to do. In fact, it was the first time in the twelve years that she had been an executive assistant that it had occurred.

She'd gone with her boss to China, Japan, the UK, Ireland, Kazakhstan, Mongolia, Brazil, Peru, Ghana, Kenya, Australia, and a couple of dozen others in her twelve years in her position, but never before had she gone to the states.

At least not since she'd moved from Maine to France when she was only fifteen and started to modeling Corsets, collars, chain-wear, garters, and other kink items. Going from modeling for a company who made the stuff most people wouldn't be caught looking at let alone actually wearing to an internship for a fortune five hundred company within four years had been the most mind altering decision of her life.

After a year as an intern and then two years as a lowly grunt, a position as an executive assistant opened up, being in the right place at the right time had landed her the position completely by accident... the six dead skunks, cases of rotten fish, and maggot infested goats heads that appeared in both her car and at the door of her apartment for the first year after she got the job honestly made her sometimes wonder if she'd actually been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but eventually the hate from other employees ended... or was at least muted.

Both Maggie and her boss sat at a large conference table and discussed what they should do as they waited for Rosalie to arrive for the meeting.

At nine am on the dot, the young woman who appeared to be about six-foot tall with long blond hair and breasts that looked suspiciously large for such a slender frame, came in. Technically, the woman was on time for her meeting with them, but in this business, if you weren't at least fifteen minutes early, you were actually late.

She came over to the table and placed a suitcase on it before reaching her hand out to Maggie's boss. "My name's Rosalie Swan, it's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

After they shook hands, Rosalie sat down.

"Well, you have five minutes to impress me. I suggest you use them well," her boss said in the most frenchy accent she'd ever heard him use.

Rosalie opened up the suitcase and pulled out a couple stacks of paper, quickly spreading out two rows of fashion.

"It's my desire to open up a new fashion line, Swan Song Fashion. These are some of the raw drawings of some of my ideas," she said as she pointed at the row with hand done sketches. On the side of each sketch were notes specifying measurements for different sizes, materials, costs, and more. "And over here are pictures of some of them that have already been put together. I didn't bring any in with me, but I can go get a few articles if you'd want to inspect them." She pointed at the other row, these one photographs. Most of the clothes were on hangers but there was an evening wedding gown on a woman who had to be almost as short as Maggie herself was, and a picture of a beautiful white lace wedding dress on a young woman. "I have most of the clothes from these photos in my car, all except the wedding dress actually. I made the wedding dress for my sister for her wedding which was just yesterday."

"So you sew your own designs?" her boss asked.

"For now, if you're willing to sponsor me so I can get off the ground properly than I plan on using some of the money to hire a family friend. I'm pretty sure you know her."

"I doubt that. But what were you going to call your company, again?"

Maggie heard the key word in her boss's question and knew immediately he'd already shut the door in the young woman's face, though she doubted Rosalie realized it.

"Well... I've taken a couple of business classes at the local university so I know controversy is extremely good for business. As such, I think calling my line Swan Song Fashion is perfect. It's morbid and tragic which screams controversial, especially when paired with the very lively and in-your-face designs that I make. On top of that, it's true, people should always live their lives and dress their best as if it is their swan song."

Maggie saw out of the corner of her eye as her boss's lips pursed together. "I'm sorry, Ms Swan. I don't think I'll be able to help you with your... pipe dreams, but I wish you the best of luck." He stood and headed toward the door before Rosalie could even open her mouth in response.

"Don't leave," Maggie hissed at Rosalie before getting up and following her boss out. "What are you doing? Did you not see those stunning sketches?" she whisper-shouted at her boss as soon as they were both in the hall.

"Yes, it's obvious the woman has _passion_ for the world of fashion, but she has – how do you say it – cotton in her head. She's got big dreams, but that's all they're ever going to be. She will never survive in this world and I am not in the business of shelling out money to sponsor someone who will go under in a year's time." His voice was filled with scorn.

"As many sketches as she's done and pieces she's made this has obviously been something she's been working towards for _years_. I sincerely doubt that she'll flounder in a single year."

"Mon dieu! She thinks I'd know a friend of hers. She obviously needs her head checked. Besides, she's never worked as a model or a photographer or held any other position in the fashion world. It would be a waste of an investment."

Maggie disagreed with him though and she was pissed off as a result. Besides, she'd read somewhere in the original file she'd about the young woman that her aunt was Irina Higginbotham – given that, it was entirely possible Rosalie knew some of the same people they did. She let her fury do the talking. "Then I quit. I'll sponsor her myself."

"Sponsor her? With what money?"

"You do realize you pay me just shy of six million euros every year, right? Unlike you, I don't buy a car every other week and a new house every other month. I have _plenty_ of money to help her get off the ground."

Her boss sputtered for a moment. "You... you... you can't just quit! You're under contract!"

"Not for the last four years, sir. On your insistence, I might add, because as I'm over thirty I have a replaceable status, even though I do a better job than any executive assistant before me ever has. Also as per you. Frankly I find it hilarious that my age is a problem given that you're almost sixty."

She turned her back on him and walked back into the conference room.

"I'll help you get off the ground," she said to Rosalie as she shut the door.


	5. A Piece of Noella

****Disclaimer:**** I am not Stephenie Meyer and therefore I do not own Twilight or the wonderful characters I screw with.

 **AN:** So this short little scene just sort of my head a couple of days ago for no good reason. Naturally, I had to write it.

 **A Piece of Noella**

 _ **October 5th, 2011**_

She gritted her teeth as she stripped out of her underwear before taking up her position in front of the class.

"Smile," the art professor hissed.

Noella couldn't be bothered to remember the asshole's name. As far as she was concerned, the teacher, who'd done nothing other than leer at her for the last three days, needed to have his gonads kicked so hard that they end up located around his lungs.

Of course, most of the students in the class weren't much better. There were approximately thirty students in the class she was posing for and almost all of them were men. It would be uncomfortable enough if she was straight, but she'd never been into guys. Not once in all her life had she looked at a male and thought, 'oh, I'd like to kiss him.' Then again, if she was being a hundred percent honest, she wasn't all that into girls either – though there had been a couple of times in high school.

Noella rolled her eyes, but otherwise remained in her pose. She knew she could make it through the stupid art class, even if all the eyes on her made her feel like breaking out in hives. Especially all the eyes that kept glancing toward her bare groin – in fact, for the first time in her life, she actually wished she grew hair down there, but she never had.

"I said _smile_!" the art professor hissed.

Noella wheeled on the man, placing her hands on her hips. "Why don't _you_ _mother fucking_ stand up here naked and smile?"

" _Excuse me_ , young lady!"

"You heard me. Why don't you get your bony, wrinkled ass up here and take your place in front of all these geeks who've obviously never seen a naked in person in their fucking lives – likely including their own bodies – and see if you can _smile_."

"NOW JUST ONE –"

"Oh, don't bother, I don't want to be here anyways. I'm gone." She stepped to the chair and quickly yanked her tee on before stomping out of the classroom without even bothering to grab the rest of her clothes.

She walked out onto the courtyard, ignoring the whistles and catcalls as she made her way across it – she knew they could likely see part of her ass – only stopping when she saw an ad for a job on the bulletin board. She didn't even read it, just yanked the paper off and continued in the direction of her motorbike.


End file.
